


Forget Me

by CaraLea



Category: RWBY
Genre: Amnesia, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Rohypnol, slipped in drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 17:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16539029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraLea/pseuds/CaraLea
Summary: Weiss had always known she was special.  She was the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, after all.  But now she'd been accepted at Beacon, she would get to go and make a name for herself, to turn herself into a better person while upholding the honor of the family name.When her parents hold a Bon Voyage party for her, Weiss enjoys being the center of attention.  That is, until she gets too little attention from her friends and family, and too much attention from a complete stranger.*Trigger warning: rape*





	Forget Me

Weiss had always known she was a special girl. She was the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, after all. Since she was little, there were music lessons, sessions with the tailor to get fitted for her nice clothes (had to look your best as an heiress), fancy dinners- she’d been expected to sit at the adult table at quite a young age –then there were the recitals, the parties…sometimes it felt like too much. Well, almost always.

Not to much for Weiss Schnee though. Only too much for lesser people. Many people had been expecting greatness from her. And now she was on the brink of giving it. Finally, _finally_ , her father had decided she could attend Beacon Academy in the fall, even if it meant she had to go far away for a while. Weiss was looking forward to it, really. High school had been boring to her, and she was ready for a challenge. That and…although she’d never admit it to _anyone_ , it was tiring be an heiress. Her father expected so much from her, and he did not let her rest. He shouldn’t. She had to live up to her family name.

But it was still kind of sad. He never, not once, ever called her to his office just to talk. They had family dinners, but they were a joke more than a real gathering of the family. Mother hardly ever showed up anymore, Winter was almost always away on missions, and Whitley was still whining about her getting to go to Beacon. This made dinners usually quiet, sordid affairs. Occasionally her father would ask either one of them how school was going, more for the purpose of making sure they were not bringing shame on the family name than to really hear about how they were doing, but more often than not they ate in silence.

Which is why it was surprising that her parents were throwing her a Bon Voyage! party. Her mother was getting really involved, too, which was _highly_ unusual of her. Even that afternoon she’d stood in the grand room, ordering servants around to get the banner hung, and the food tables set up. They’d hired Braun Mackey as the DJ, a terrifying and amazing jazz pianist with his hands in a more modern flair of the DJ bizz. Weiss knew that they could expect some upper class stuff from him, even if he did end up playing dubstep.

The tailor finished clipping her dress into place, her handmaid finished her professional style makeup, and of course another servant was pinning her hair up. Weiss treasured her hair. Long, white locks, a serious signal to everyone around her of her Schnee heritage. It was exciting to go into public and have people recognize her, to know who she is immediately.

“Are you ready, miss?” one of the servants asked. Weiss nodded, then remembered her manors 

“Yes, thank you,” she said haughtily. At least she tried to sound less stuck up.

They led her to the grand staircase, and when they announced her name, Weiss walked down them into the grand room. Everyone was clapping, some cheering a _bon voyage_! for her. This was the kind of moment Weiss lived for. Carefully extending each leg, mustering all the grace she possessed, Weiss glided down the stairs, relishing every eye on her as she made her way to the bottom of the staircase.

When she reached the bottom, her parents made an appearance. For the first time in a long time, they looked happy together. Her mother was hanging off Father’s arm, her eyes glued to his face. Mother was positively beaming, her smile radiant. For his part, Father looked proud himself, giving his daughter a nod. He had a glass in his hand, and was holding it up. A servant came out of nowhere, handing him a microphone.  He coughed once, twice, and immediately the crowd fell silent.

“It feels like just yesterday I was holding baby Weiss in my arms for the first time,” he began. “I knew back then that she was special, but I don’t think I ever realized just how special she was going to become. I should have guessed! She’s _my_ daughter after all!”

Everyone laughed. The whole crowd. Some people waved their hands, as if the Schnee Father had just said the funniest joke they’d heard. Weiss giggled too, a little embarrassed.

Thankfully her father moved on. “But truly, she has become such a wonderful person. A talented musician, an intelligent huntress, and a great business partner might I add. Weiss has truly proven herself worthy to be the heiress to our company.” He paused, letting that settle in. _Our company_ , Weiss thought. _He said_ our _company._

“Now she is leaving for Beacon,” he said. “And I couldn’t be more proud. You will bring pride and honor to your family name,” he said, suddenly addressing Weiss directly. He raised his glass to her, and everyone quickly followed suit. “May you travel safely, and learn much at Beacon. And come home quickly,” he added.

Father sipped from his cup, and everyone followed suit. Mother, Weiss noticed, downed her whole glass. Once the toast was over, everyone began cheering. Her mother enveloped her in a big hug, and her father put his hand on her shoulder.

“Smile!” somebody Weiss couldn’t see called out, and a flash indicated her picture had been taken.

The crowd pressed in around her so fast that Weiss hardly noticed her parents walking away. Hands grasped hers, business partners and rivals alike were shaking her hands, congratulating her. Person after person, face after face, beaming smiles and flashes of white teeth told her again and again that they were glad for her, that they were happy she was going to such a prestigious school.

“Your father sure will miss you!” somebody joked. “Think he can carry on without you?”

“Do you know how long you’ll be gone?” another person asked. Before she could answer, another person was.

“Typically students stay four years, but smart as she is, Weiss’ll get through quicker than that!”

The music turned up, almost drowning out the conversation. Weiss tried to figure out what the people around her were saying, when she suddenly realized none of them were really talking to her. Bodies began to move, swaying to the beat. Little groups were forming, men and women congregating into their own cliques as they danced. Weiss was left to herself. Her eyes flashed around for her family. Whitley was nowhere to be found- probably not allowed to come to the party because he was so young. Winter was of course on a mission. Her father was at the edge of the party, talking to a group of reporters. Finally she found her mother, downing a whole glass of wine on the other side of the room. The happy air she’d had before was gone.

Suddenly the life of the party was driven out of her. She understood now why her family had held this party for her. It was a publicity stunt. A way to show the public what a happy and well-knit family they were. Really, it had nothing to do with Weiss at all. 

She reached out and took a glass of sparkling something from a servant. “Thank you,” she said to him, but she doubt he heard her. The servant bowed and backed away. She sipped it and winced. Why were all of her family’s drinks so bitter?

Disappointment soaked up all of her energy. Nobody on the floor seemed to have noticed that she left. Everybody was dancing, moving and swaying together to the music. Nobody was looking to talk to her, which even they wanted to, they couldn’t because the music was up so loud. Honestly, for the star of the show, Weiss was essentially a non-entity here.

She might as well go to bed now. Or at least go to another part of the house to relax. The music was too loud, it was giving her a headache. Exhaustion made her head pound. It was probably only like 9 o’clock, so why was she so tired all of a sudden? Maybe she had had too much energy preparing for this party.

Something wasn’t right. She felt…weird. Had perhaps she’d grabbed the champagne by accident? Quickly she took another sip, but nothing tasted out of place. Weiss looked at her glass, but the amber liquid within gave her no answers as to what was possibly going on.

The glass swam in her vision. Weiss blinked heavily, trying to bring it back into focus again. A wave of dizziness swam over her. She tried to grasp the glass a little harder, but to her surprise it was no longer in her hand. If the glass broke on the floor, she didn’t hear it. Probably because the music was too loud. Even right now it was pounding heavily in her ears, drowning out any other sounds.

She was vaguely aware of a hand on her shoulder. Weiss looked up, trying to get an image of whoever was talking to her, but the lights were too dim to really make him out. It was a him though. She could hear his voice as if from far away.

“…you alright?”

What was he saying? Weiss tried to focus her gaze on him, surprised at how hard this small task was. She squinted, trying to make out any features. Brown hair, gray eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was short or tall. His voice was lighter, a tenor. Words. She tried to make out words.

“Are you alright?"

“Mm fine,” Weiss tried to say, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. She thought he said something else, but she couldn’t tell over the music. Her eyes found the floor. His feet were right next to hers. That was a little too close. She tried to shuffle to the side, away from him, but her legs felt too heavy to move. Instead she stumbled a little.

“Whoa!” a voice said in her ear. “Let’s go, come on.”

Weiss wanted to protest, but her legs actually started moving with his. It was smoother going, having an arm around his shoulder and his hand on her waist. How did they get like this?

The music from the party abruptly became quieter. Or at least the tune did, but the beat was still pounding in her eardrums. Once the atmosphere of the party was behind them, Weiss expected for things to go back to normal. But they didn’t. Everything was still foggy. She felt like she was seeing two of everything. There was that one chipped floor tile her parents hadn’t yet noticed outside the foyer. Only there were two chipped floor tiles. Wasn’t there only supposed to be one? Maybe they were in a different part of the house.

She lifted her gaze and met two pairs of eyes. It kind of looked like the statue of the old King of Atlas, before when it was known as Mantle. Weiss had always hated that statue. Sometimes it felt like its eyes were staring at you. It made going to the library distinctly uncomfortable.

Wait. The library was nowhere near the foyer with the chipped floor tile. Where _were_ they?

Confused, she looked around herself. Sure enough, they were in the library. She was laying in one of those comfortable, long couches. It was still pretty dark, give on lantern lit along the far wall.

“What are you doing?” she wanted to ask, but again her mouth didn’t seem to work. One time, she’d been put under heavy Novocain to get a baby tooth removed. Her lips had felt fat, and foreign on her face. That was kind of what it felt like now. So instead of actual words, her mouth only formed slurred noises.

“I told you it would work,” a voice said out of the darkness. Weiss tried to move, to sit up and see who it was, but she just rolled haphazardly onto her side. Another wave of dizziness swamped her, making the room spin. She buried her head into the pillow under her, trying to block out her vision long enough to get rid of the vertigo.

“No,” the same voice said from before. Weiss couldn’t tell if it was the same guy as before, or somebody different. “Of course nobody saw me. You think anybody actually cares about _her_. They cared about the booze and the bitches. And siding up to Jacques to get on his _good_ side.”

Weiss tried to concentrate, to focus on the conversation at hand. Something in her frazzled brain told her this was important.

“She looks in bad shape,” a second voice said, almost concerned. “Are you sure you did it right?”

A hand dug roughly into her back, sitting her upright. “She’s fine, see?” the first voice said. “She’s _supposed_ to get like this. It means that it’s working. And…”

Suddenly a different hand plunged down her shirt, gripping her left breast with some force. “No fight in her.”

“That’s awesome,” the other guy’s voice sounded, but it came from farther away.

Weiss felt herself flop back onto the couch, the hand that had been bracing her up mysteriously gone, along with the hand that had touched her chest. _Thank God,_ she thought, but the voices were still there. She could hear laughter, and some loud noise, as if the door had slammed shut. But she couldn’t see the boys, whoever they were. No matter where she looked they evaded her vision. 

She jumped when a hand touched her leg, down by her calf. “Hey, it’s okay,” a voice soothed, and Weiss made eye contact with the guy from before, brown hair framing his face. Only his hand was rubbing up her leg, and it was not okay.

The hand made its way up her skirt, rubbing circular patterns into her thigh. “Hey,” she said, finding her voice. “Stop it.”

But the hand didn’t stop. It toyed around her upper thighs, drawing a line where her legs met her torso, then moving around to squeeze her butt. She yelped, trying to pull away, but she was unsure if she made any real progress.

Her skirt came up out of nowhere. How did she get on her stomach? Whose hands were that, plaguing her lower abdomen. She squirmed, trying to get away and finding nowhere to go as those hands again rubbed into her thighs. There was a sharp slap against her ass, one she could hardly feel but echoed loudly in her brain.

Suddenly she was on her back again. Vaguely she was aware that her dress was not quite on right. The sleeves were coming off, and the dress was falling down. She shivered against the cold air on her bare breasts, fumbling to find her dress.

A hand reached out, gently caressing her boob. She felt the hand cup her breast tenderly, giving it a little bounce.

“Oh man that’s nice,” a voice said distantly. Weiss did not recognize that voice. Did not understand what he was talking about.

“Hey,” she repeated. “Stop it. Let go of me!”

The only response to her request was a laugh. She tried to raise her arm, to slap him away, but she couldn’t make her arm muscles cooperate. Instead her arm waved jerkily through the air, missing whoever was violating her entirely. Meanwhile, the hand on her breast squeezed, fingers digging in to her supple flesh.

Weiss was still fumbling stupidly through the air when a mouth attached to her chest. She jumped, scooching backwards on the couch as the mouth sucked her skin. She felt wet dripping down her stomach, drool maybe of the heathen touching her so inappropriately. She wind milled her arm again, this time fist making contact with something hard.

Laughter pounded her eardrums, drowning out the beat of the music in her ears. Suddenly her vision as filled with the face of a different guy, long blonde hair and golden eyes, a wild look about him.

“Is that all you got?” he asked, and it echoed in Weiss’s head. No, she wanted to say, she could do so much better. But the words would not come out. She tried again to move her arms, but they were so heavy, and she was so tired. Where did this sudden weakness in her come from? Why was she unable to fight back?

She felt her panties peel off her ankles, which was confusing, because she hadn’t felt them come down to her ankles. Scared, she twisted, trying to turn away from the guys hanging over her. Her struggles were met with quite a resistance, as if a weight was pushing her down.

Fingers touched her, probed her. Weiss tried to kick out with her feet but found them limp and leaden. It was too obvious that she was about to bring shame on her family. If anybody who had carefully trained her her whole life saw her in this position, or God forbid her _father_ , she’d definitely be forbidden from going to Beacon. She’d probably be forbidden from being a Huntress.

Weiss felt something thick and wet rubbing her clit. Her mind was going blank. Without being able to move her arms or her legs, Weiss was clueless on how to fight back. She was aware of something pushing into her painfully. For the first time she found her voice, yelling out senselessly.

The guy above her laughed, his face again filling her vision. “Klein’s not coming,” she heard him say. Then everything went black.

…

Weiss sat up suddenly, gasping for air.

Everything was gone. No party, no guests. She wasn’t anywhere near the Grand Room. In fact, Weiss was in her bed. Light streamed in through the windows, illuminating her bedroom. Based on the angle, it was quite late in the day.

Something in her pounding head told her something was wrong. She tried to figure out what, but nothing came up. Perhaps something had happened at the party the night before? She tried to remember back, but found her mind went blank.

“What?” she breathed, happy to have her voice but unsure _why_ she should be happy at having her voice. She tried to think. What was the last thing she remembered?

She’d come down the grand staircase to a smatter of applause. Her father had given quite a stirring toast. She remembered she’d been embarrassed. The lights were dim, and the music too loud. She could hear it from the library.

Wait, that wasn’t right. She hadn’t gone to the library last night, had she?

Suddenly a knock at her door broke her reverie, making her jump. She looked around, confused. Something felt _wrong_ but nothing in her room was out of place. Another knock at the door reminded her she had a guest.

“C-come in!” she beckoned.

To her immense relief, Klein came in, holding a tray with a steaming mug on it with what Weiss assumed was coffee. She didn’t know why, but seeing Klein made the panic she felt ebb away a little. There was no logical explanation for this; he had not done anything to calm her, or assure her that everything was normal. But somehow, his mere presence made the whole situation seem bearable.

“I’m glad you’re awake, Miss,” he said warmly, crossing the floor with her mug. “You’ve slept rather late today, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“That’s…fine,” Weiss said, taking the mug as he offered it. She sipped the warm liquid within, humming in pleasure. Her guess had been spot on. It was her favorite kind of coffee, made just the way she liked it.

With a warm mug of coffee in her hands and Klein standing next to her bed, she felt a little calmer, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was _wrong_. She tried again to remember what had happened the night before, but her mind ran a blank. She could just vaguely remember the music, and it had been chilly, but as to how the night had ended, nothing.

It wasn’t right. Weiss gripped her mug harder, thinking back. She’d had a cup last night, no a glass. Sparkling cider, and then she’d lost it…somewhere. She had no memory where.

“Is everything okay, Miss?” Klein asked suddenly. Weiss looked up, startled by his proximity. For some reason, she had forgotten he was there.

He looked concerned, and she rushed to reassure him. “I’m fine,” she answered confidently. “Just tired I guess,” she added, unable to completely hide her concern.

Klein nodded wisely. “That was some party last night,” he said sagely. “Nothing a hot breakfast won’t fix!”

He turned to go, crossing the room in quick strides.

Abruptly Weiss felt the panic return. The idea of Klein leaving her alone again was not a welcome one. There was no particular reason for it, but Weiss knew she _couldn’t_ let Klein leave.

“Wait,” she said, making him halt in his tracks.

Slowly, he turned to face her again. “Yes?” he asked. His eyes were just as curious as Weiss was apprehensive.

“What happened last night?” she asked before she could stop herself. “How did I get-?” She cut herself off before she could finish that question.

Klein guessed anyway. “How did you get in bed?”

Mutely, Weiss nodded.

The butler shrugged, looking at her with an unreadable expression. “I do believe it was Mss. Rosalina who found you,” he told her after a moment. “You were in your bathroom, covered in grease and…well a bit tipsy. She cleaned you up and brought you to your bed to sleep it off.”

Weiss had no response to that. None of what Klein just told her fit into what little she could remember. How did she get covered in grease? And at no point could she remember leaving to go to the bathroom. Add to that that Weiss made a point to never get intoxicated, the fact that she’d been tipsy was completely out of character. Nothing made sense anymore, and this concerned her greatly.

Klein must have misread her expression. “Don’t worry Miss,” he said. “Your father doesn’t know. Nobody knows, really, except for myself and Mss. Rosalina.”

Well, whatever shenanigans Weiss had gotten herself into, it was a relief to know that it was being kept private. “Thanks, Klein,” she said warmly, flashing him a grateful look.

He smiled, giving a little bow. “Not a problem, Miss,” he answered. “You finish off your mug, and then come right to the kitchen. I’ll make you a fresh plate of raspberry crepes.”

“Mm, crepes,” Weiss breathed as he walked out. The panic she’d felt earlier abated. Now she took in the fact. Something had happened, although she didn’t know what. Her servants had taken care of her, discreetly cleaning her and bedding her, and Klein was looking out for her now.

It still bothered her that she couldn’t remember anything. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know what had happened. Whatever it was, it had to have been bad, that was a given. _Oh well,_ she thought, standing up. To her surprise, her whole body ached viciously.

_Get over it,_ she thought. She had felt this much pain after fighting the Geist. Maybe even worse. Whatever she’d done last night, it couldn’t have been too violent. Shaking it off, she stretched, hoping to work out the kinks throughout the day. She could train, and she’d have piano practice later. Last night was behind her. Tomorrow she left for Beacon, and she’d only have to look forward from there.


End file.
